


The death of duty

by myrish_lace



Series: Love is the Death of Duty [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Deception, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Goodbyes, Hostage Situations, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Jon learns to lie, Lies, Not Canon Compliant, One Shot, Promises, Scheming, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-24 01:02:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13202358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myrish_lace/pseuds/myrish_lace
Summary: Sansa attends the parley at the Dragonpit. Cersei demands that Sansa stay in King's Landing in exchange for aiding the war effort. Jon is torn apart, but ultimately agrees - only because he plans to return and rescue Sansa from the Red Keep.





	The death of duty

**Author's Note:**

> From a fantastic tumblr prompt that helped me crack a mini case of writer's block. I'm myrish-lace-love on tumblr if you want to say hi! :)

Sansa did not sway as the crowd gasped. She would not give them that satisfaction. Instead, she held her head high and gazed serenely at a point on the horizon.

But she twisted the ring on her index finger, once, before she caught herself.

 _No_ , Jon thought,  _no, this is why I pleaded with you not to come. Because I can’t protect you. From Daenerys, or from Cersei_.

Then again, Sansa was accustomed to Jon’s failures. Jon was Warden of the North now, not a king any longer, and sworn to serve Daenerys Targaryen. He’d bent the knee to save their kingdom.

And yet, they were still trapped, waiting on Cersei Lannister’s pledge, because Daenerys Targaryen’s encounter with the Night King had not quelled her ambition for the Iron Throne.

Cersei drummed her fingers on her chair, awaiting Jon’s answer. The audience had fallen silent, and only the occasional dragon’s cry overhead filtered through the muggy air. Sansa tried to catch Jon’s eye. Perhaps this was a sacrifice she was willing to make. Perhaps he should not take that choice away from her. She had as much right to offer herself up for the North as Jon did.

But Jon was selfish, and weak, and could not let her go.

Cersei cleared her throat. She was not a patient woman. “What is your answer, Jon Snow?”

He wanted to say:  _You will never have her._  “In the matter of this Great War, we need to come together. We need to trust each other,” he said to Cersei. And Sansa.

_Sansa. Please. Hear me. Remember. I will not leave you here to die._

Cersei smirked, a quirk of her lips like a self-satisfied cat. “No alliance can proceed without trust. I would, of course, trust Ned Stark’s son to keep his word.”

Jon swallowed, a bitter taste in his mouth mixed with the dust of the Dragonpit. He needed to be smarter than Robb. Smarter than father. A slow realization overtook him. He had a currency he could spend. A legacy he could lean on. For the first time during this cursed parley, he felt a glimmer of hope.

He could lie, and be believed. A gift from Ned Stark, beyond the grave.

In a stadium of hostile players, each doubting the other's words, his promise would be taken as true. Cersei’s mistake was assuming Jon was still bound to his word. That she'd boxed him into doing his duty.

But when Jon saw Sansa twist her ring again, he knew that duty was dead to him, ash in his mouth.

“Then we accept,” he said, checking only for Sansa's reaction as the crowd murmured around him. He saw the faintest of smiles on Sansa’s lips, and that emboldened him. “On one condition. We take Jaime Lannister in exchange for Sansa Stark.”

Cersei pressed her lips into a thin line. “He is the commanding general of my armies.”

 _And your lover_ , Jon thought.  _You will suffer too, Cersei, because pain is power, and power is all you understand_. “Aye. Armies you have pledged to the defense of the realm until the Northern threat is dealt with. He would be an honored member of our war council.”

Cersei folded her hands neatly in her lap. “Very well. Sansa Stark will be an honored guest in King’s Landing as long as Jaime remains safe.”

Jon was no fool. Cersei had no intention of keeping her end of the bargain. Jaime's safety might stay her hand for a while - Jon was counting on that much - but her cruelty and malice would win in the end. He saw the greedy light in her eyes when she glanced over at Sansa.

Cersei curled her hand under her chin. “Sansa will be well taken care of. We’ll ensure she has accommodations befitting her rank.”

 _Like Arianne Martell_? A question Jon had wanted to ask, before Daenerys had stayed his hand. Jon did not know what had happened to Arianne, but he could guess. Were her bones rotting in the Red Keep now? Or was she still screaming for her life as her flesh burned?

_You'll never win this way, Jon. You’ll only drive yourself mad. Your fears will not help you get Sansa back. Stay focused._

The only way to win was to give Sansa up, even if it broke his heart to do it. He prayed to the gods that this was the right choice.

“Then we accept,” Jon said.

Cersei inclined her head. “Done.”

“May we say goodbye?” Sansa asked, voice trembling. There were tears in Sansa's eyes. For one horrible moment Jon thought he'd misjudged, and Sansa hated him for the choice he’d made.

Then understanding coursed through him. The tears were to please Cersei, to seal the bargain, and to sell its value.

Cersei nodded graciously. “Yes of course. I'll take a moment to bid my brother goodbye as well.”

Cersei took her brother’s hand, and kissed Jaime deeply as low murmurs reverberated through the arena. Even Daenerys was distracted, her mouth hanging open.

Sansa walked calmly over to Jon. “Goodbye, brother,” she said. She held out her arms and Jon walked into them.

Sansa hugged him gently. Jon’s body was on fire, but that was his shame to endure. He tried to memorize her scent, the sweet feel of her in his arms, because nothing was certain in a time of war.

 _I'll come for you_ , he wanted to say, but it would only disappoint her.

Sansa whispered in his ear. “Well done, Jon.”

“I hate it,” he said hoarsely, aware that but for Cersei’s display, all eyes would be fixed on the embrace he and Sansa shared. He was holding her too close, had his hand wrapped in her hair, but he couldn't stop, couldn't stop. “I hate leaving you here Sansa. You've lived this nightmare before. I never wanted you to have to see her again.”

“We all have nightmares to face,” Sansa said, and she sounded like Catelyn in that moment, like Ned. “Winter is here, and so is the Night King.”

“Brienne stays with you,” Jon said fiercely. “You need protection.”

“Brienne is not yours to command,” Sansa said, the corners of her eyes crinkling. Her bravery and strength, in the midst of their enemies, was a mystery and an inspiration all at once.  “She is my sworn shield, remember?”

Jon was abashed. “I do. But please, ask her to stay with you. Sansa I-“ His throat closed. “I can't bear to think what they'll do to you. Inflict on you.”

Sansa paled slightly. “Brienne is a valued member of your war council.” She glanced over at Cersei, who was talking to the monster that was the Mountain.

 _Please_ , Jon begged silently.  _Please keep Brienne by your side. Give me that much comfort._

Sansa swallowed as the Mountain shifted in his clanking armor. “Yes, she'll stay with me. But you mustn't worry about us Jon. Win our home back. Save the north. Save our people.”

“I will always worry, Sansa,” he said, and her face softened.

He wanted to get down on one knee in front of her. He wanted to kiss her hand, and her mouth, to clutch her tightly to him.

But she was his sister, and he was a warrior, and they both had parts to play.

“Then win quickly,” she said, and kissed him on the cheek. It was a deliberate contrast to Cersei’s display of affection – chaste and proper. It was a move in the game, and he did not close his eyes to savor it. She stepped back, and was instantly surrounded by Lannister guards. Jon flexed his sword hand to keep from drawing Longclaw as Sansa was swallowed in a sea of red and gold.

Brienne dropped Jaime Lannister next to Jon. Jon could have sworn Brienne had carried Jaime over by the scruff of his neck, and Jaime hadn’t minded.

“You've made Robb Stark's bargain at last. The Kingslayer for Lady Catelyn’s daughter.  Well struck, Lord Snow.” For all his bravado, Jaime Lannister still looked shaken by the wight that had clawed for Cersei’s face. He was a seasoned battle commander. He understood what one hundred thousand undead soldiers meant. As much as Jon despised him, his insight would be helpful.

“If Cersei harms her, I'll cut your head from your shoulders,” Jon growled.

Jaime tilted his head. His green eyes danced. “No death by dragon fire? Pity, I'd been hoping for a more dramatic exit.” A man who doesn't fear his own death, Jon thought. Then again, neither did Jon. He only feared the deaths of those he loved.

With the players moved across the _cyvasse_ board, the details of the truce were settled. Jon, Cersei and Daenerys exchanged ringing words about trust and commitment and the safety of the realm. All of them were well-spoken lies. Jon dug his fingernails into his palm to keep his eyes on Cersei, rather than Sansa.

The pact sealed, Jon’s party made preparations to go. He held himself together until the Lannisters left the Dragonpit. The sight of Sansa’s auburn hair fading into blackness, as the maw of the arena door swallowed her whole, tore Jon apart. They’d won back the North, only to trap her here in the South.

***

Tyrion and Daenerys both praised him on the way home.

“You've finally learned to play the great game,” Tyrion said, raising his glass as their boat swayed on the rough sea. Jon smiled tightly, and said nothing.

As soon as he had Daenerys in place and committed to flying North, as soon as his forces were set in motion, he would steal Rhaegal, and fly to the Red Keep.

Because Sansa Stark belonged with him, in Winterfell. Jon needed her in the very marrow of his bones, even if he didn’t understand the why of it, and he was willing to forsake duty and honor and the war itself to bring her back.


End file.
